Pie
by StAnDiNgContrapposto
Summary: After discovering Rose's less than innocent reading material, a frustrated Doctor takes comfort in pie. Lots of pie. 10/Rose. Disclaimer: I don't own the song "I Touch Myself" By Divinyls, I don't own Cosmo, and I don't own Doctor Who.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, and I do not own Cosmo.

This is just a quick little fic I thought up when I got halfway through the last chapter of Triangle and needed sometime else on my mind. This was obviously inspired by the latest issue of Cosmo which I read along side too much wine and sweets--and this story was born!

This will only be two chapters long. I'm rating it T for now, but it might get a little raunchy. I'm really bad with determining a rating so if it's too much just let me know and I'll up it to M.

Enjoy!

**Pie**

Chapter One

Rose lay on her stomach, her knees bent as she swung her legs back and forth. The bed the Doctor had given her was fabulously comfortable. The Doctor had the TARDIS furnish her room with all that is common in the early twenty first century to make her feel comfortable. Even so, Rose was sure the mattress had to be adapted from alien technology.

She licked her finger and turned the page of her magazine. Her eyebrows raised for a minute and she leaned forward for a closer look just as the Doctor in all his pin stripe glory burst in. She jumped up at his unannounced entrance, marked her place, and swiftly tried unsuccessfully to hide it behind her back.

"I tried to make banana meringue pie and blimey it's a bit of a mess out there, I'm lousy at domestics but I made enough pie to last us through most of the cold war if we happened to land there that is—what is that?"

"What's what?" She said a little too quickly. "Don't you think of knocking?"

"It's my ship!" He said a little affronted, and slightly hurt. "What is that you're holding behind your back?"

"It's nothing!"

The Doctor grinned. "Come on. You can tell me." Faster than she expected, he leaped and snatched the magazine from her hands.

"Oi!" She made a feeble attempt to wrestle it back from him, but gave up and slumped back against the headboard. She folded her arms. "I tried to warn you."

The Doctor leafed through the magazine to the place Rose had marked.

Rose studied her cuticles and waited for his reaction. Her face burned but she mentally scolded herself. She was twenty years old. She certainly had a right to read what she wanted.

"'Ninety-Nine Sex Tips'." His voice was monotone as he read the headline and he turned the page.

Rose looked up to see him pulling his glasses out of his breast pocket. Could he really be interested? "Number One: Turn up in a trench coat—" He smirked and looked up at her. "I've got that covered." He returned his eyes to the magazine. "and nothing else. Oh." He cleared his throat. "Number Two: Rub his—" His eyes bulged comically and he turned the page quickly and raised a hand to his mouth. "Oh this is filthy. Rose, what are you reading this for?"

"It's just a mag, Doctor." She grabbed it from his hands and he stared at her.

"Are you looking for…'sex tips'?"

"So what if I am?"

The Doctor's jaw clenched and his brows dropped in a frown. "No. That's fine. You read what you want." He hesitated, his hands stuffed in his pockets, then spun on his heals and walked slowly out the door, closing the door gently behind him.

He entered the messy kitchen and observed the pie. Something didn't feel quite right in the pit of his stomach and he couldn't for the life of him pinpoint what it was. He was just over nine hundred years old, yet he still could not figure out his own body. He put a hand to his stomach and wondered if he was ill.

Rose must be needing something else in her life and the thought made his stomach turn sour. Any second she could come out of the room and ask to go home, to find someone to settle down with. _Someone to practice what she's reading._ He thought bitterly. What would he do when she left?

His hands shook as he reached suddenly for a fork and stabbed it violently into the pie. Scooping the center out, he crammed a large amount of banana filling and meringue into his mouth and slumped onto the stool, his elbows on the counter. He stuck the fork back in to the pie and filled his mouth again. Meringue clung to his face but he did not care. He leaned his head forward and let it fall onto the counter with a groan.

Humans. Slaves to their biology. So what if Rose needed a shag, the Doctor thought miserably, he had pie.

* * *

Rose's hands trembled as she clutched the magazine to her, attempting to read it again. She had no one to practice these moves on, and she wished she could convey that to the Doctor. For some reason she felt that that knowledge would resolve the situation.

She looked back down at the magazine, read number fifty-five, and giggled. _The scalp has many nerve endings. Pull his hair as he finishes— _She subconsciously licked her lips as her eyes glazed over. Soft brown hair pulled back, his Adam's apple exposed, and his mouth hanging open. She was startled suddenly when she realized who she was picturing.

* * *

The Doctor walked slowly down the corridor and caressed the coral of the TARDIS as he entered the console room. In one hand he clutched the pie to him. The sick feeling in his stomach had not left him. "Need more pie. That's what I need." He stuck the pudding filled fork back into his mouth. The more he ate, the more he hoped he would taste it, but with every forkful, it seemed to taste less and less sweet. "Good thing I made more than one." He thought vaguely and sat on pilots seat, propping his feet up on the console.

Rose. Sex tips. Sex tips for her to use on a bloke. A random bloke. Maybe a bloke she had fancied for a long time but never had the courage to talk to? Maybe a bloke who went to school with her, one who lives at the Powell Estate. As soon as the thoughts came again, he kicked the console viciously then cursed at the pain, spraying pudding. He put the pie down next to him and got up, kicking the console repeatedly. He ignored the pain and instead threw the mallet across the room with all his strength. He felt a small flare of satisfaction and wiped some pie form his face with his sleeve. He liked being in control. He could control the objects around the TARDIS. He put one foot up against the console and tugged at a panel. He growled with effort as he pulled it free, nearly falling as it came loose. He immediately threw the panel forcibly on the grated floor and it shattered.

"Oh yes." He said, staring at the pieces with a manic grin. "More pie."

Maybe it would be a bloke who would treat her horrendously. He took the fork from the pie and threw it across the room, meringue splattering against the central column. This was natural. He thought as he dwelled on the sick feeling. It was his protective side. He just wanted what was best for her. He was like a father-- No. He recoiled. Definitely the wrong thought, he was _not_ a father figure to her.

Nevertheless Rose could be thinking of some boy she might have met on earth. Or worse yet, some big thuggish bloke with biceps the size of the Doctor's head.

He plunged his fist into what was left of the pie and shoveled it into his mouth, barely taking time to breath between gulps.

* * *

Number eighty-five: Use pudding. Rose raised her eyebrows and closed the magazine. Now there was a thought.

She sighed and rose from the bed. She better talk to the Doctor and try some of his pie. If he worked hard enough on it, she had better try to choke it down, no matter how awful it may be.

When she entered the kitchen, she froze.

The Doctor was bent over the counter in the kitchen, the side of his pie spattered face resting on the surface. Six empty pie tins lay around him. His jacket and tie lay in a heap on the floor and banana pudding was splattered on his white shirt. "Rose." He groaned. "I might die."

"You…you ate _all_ the pie?" She picked up an overturned tin. It was licked clean. "Doctor. You ate _all six pies."_

He raised his hand for silence. "Ch-ch-ch-ch- _please _don't remind me. I know. Not one of my finer moments."

"You, okay?" Rose said, smirking.

"No! I told you I might die! Time Lords probably aren't meant to consume six banana meringue pies—Rose, I think I'm going to be sick." Rose noticed his face was indeed getting rather green. He groaned, clutched his stomach, and pitched off the stool.

"Oh, okay, okay," Rose grabbed him at the shoulders and helped him around the counter. "To the loo, come on."

Rose threw the door to the loo open and pushed the Doctor in the direction of the toilet. He collapsed over the it and spilled the contents of his stomach.

"There goes all that pie you worked so hard on." Rose said, kneeling beside him and rubbing circles on his back. "I hope you won't be off bananas after this."

The Doctor gasped and pulled back. "Nah, not off anything—" He lunged forward again and retched.

Rose rubbed the back of his neck. Even as he vomited, she couldn't help remembering number fifty-five as her fingers combed through his hair.

He pulled back again and Rose offered him a towel which he took gratefully, wiping his mouth. "Scratch that, I _am_ off pie now. Never bananas, but pie filling..." He groaned.

Rose smiled and hugged him around his shoulders, laying her face against his back. "Hope you've learned your lesson." She stood up and left the Doctor to clean himself up. No more pudding. That was number eighty-five out.

* * *

A/N: So like I said, just going to do one more chapter for this probably. Please review!


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry this is so late! Thanks so much for the reviews! Here's the conclusion to Pie, enjoy!

Chapter 2

**I would like to have sex with you because:**

Rose stared at the four perforated sections of the magazine fold out, each with the same bold title, and a lengthy list of reasons and check boxes.

She checked to make sure the door was tightly closed. Judging by the self pitying moans still emanating from the bathroom, however, she was in no danger of being disturbed.

Just for fun, she told herself as she drew a pen from the bedside table and sat on her bed to make her decisions.

**I would like to have sex with you because: **

She tapped her pen against her chin as she thought. Finally, with a small smirk, she ticked the box next to 'I noticed your feet are large.'

"Rose…" The strangled voice sounded from next door. "I'm dying!"

"You're not dying!" She yelled back and shrugged as she ticked off: 'Because the world could end tomorrow." With the life they led, she felt that was as valid reason as any.

"You don't understand me," The petulant voice continued, "I'm _dying_!"

"I understand you perfectly, Doctor, enough to know when you're crying wolf!" She ticked off: 'Because you're a bad boy.'

His response was one of garbled mutterings and Rose smiled and shook her head in exasperation. She sighed and tucked the magazine under her arm. Wrenching her door open, she leaned against the frame and looked into the bathroom.

The Doctor sat beside the toilet looking miserable. His arms hung loosely over his raised knees. He met his large, moist eyes with hers. His hair was wet as though he had shoved his head under the sink to be rid of the pie filling and his blue shirt was unbuttoned and rolled to the elbows, showing his white t-shirt underneath. "Rose, can I talk to you?"

The sight of him drew a frustrated sigh. "One second." She returned to her room and gave the magazine one last view. She ticked: 'Because I'm in love with you.' Then threw the magazine on her bed in a rumpled mess.

When she returned, she found him leaning his head back against the wall. "I want to talk to you about something important."

Her heart skipped a beat. "What is it?" She sat down beside him.

"Were you just reading your sexy mag again?"

She slapped his thigh hard.

"Oi, what was that for?" He rubbed his leg.

"You're being rude! Just let it go, it's a _magazine_."

"Right." He nodded but his eyes still looked troubled.

"You don't look good, Doctor. Aren't you feeling any better by now?"

"Honestly, Rose, I'm not." He met her eyes. "I don't know what it is but I don't feel right at all."

"Seriously?" She sat up and regarded him sternly. "Are you going to be sick again?"

"I don't know. I feel very, very unwell, Rose." His voice cracked.

"Oh my God." She tucked her hair behind her ear nervously. "What can I do? What do you need?"

He groaned and slowly leaned his body in her direction. She caught him in her arms, his forehead against her shoulder.

"Please don't throw up on me." She pleaded as she hugged him, rubbing his back.

He chuckled. "I don't have anything left to throw up."

Rose cringed at the cold wetness that seeped from his hair and through her clothes. "What do you want, Doctor?" She said softly, stroking his back as she would a cat.

"I want an answer."

"What's the question?"

"Do you want to go home to be with some possessive, rugby playing, body building, boyfriend?"

"What?" Rose drew away sharply and the Doctor reluctantly sat up.

"It's your choice. It's always your choice, I won't make you stay."

"Doctor, I'm not going anywhere. I'll stay in the TARDIS the rest of my life."

The Doctor swallowed. "So…you haven't got a controlling, testosterone amped boyfriend?"

Rose couldn't help her laugh. "Course not, where'd I find time to find someone like that anyway? Somewhere between being possessed on New Earth and buying you edible ball bearing cake?"

"Oh yeah." He grinned suddenly. "That was genius. Ball bearings you can eat!"

"I think you should take it easy on your stomach for a little while." She said, squeezing his shoulder when his smile fell.

He jumped up suddenly and held a hand out. She took his hand and let him help her up. "Better?"

"Molto bene!" He said with a crooked smile. "Go read your naughty mags, I'll be in at the console. Have fun!" He gave her a wink and let go of her hand.

"_So_ gonna kill you." Rose said with a grin as he ran down the hall, buttoning his shirt as he went.

* * *

Even as Rose flipped the pages of her no longer contraband magazine, she couldn't help dwelling on the wink the Doctor had given her. It was stupid, she knew, but she couldn't help remembering the last wink he had given her on the Sycorax ship.

Feeling a tad naughty, she shrugged and rose off her bed. If the Doctor didn't mind her reading this anymore, surely she didn't have to do it in secret.

When the sound of a beat, increasing in volume, permeated the air form the direction of the console room, Rose knew she had to have a look.

The beat got louder and the sound of electric guitar came in as she quietly shut her door and tip toed down the hall.

When the lyrics started, Rose threw a hand to her mouth to suppress her laughter as she sneaked around the corner. The Doctor was holding the mallet he kept by the console. In his usual way, he danced around the console, pulling out wires here and there and switching buttons. What had sparked Rose's attention, however, were the words of the song he was currently singing.

"I love myself, I want you to love me. When I'm feeling down, I want you above me. I search myself, I want you to find me. I forget myself, I want you to remind me."

Rose shook her head. The hypocrite didn't want her to read dirty magazines, but he was allowed to sing and dance to dirty songs?

"I don't want anybody else. When I think about you I touch myself."

Rose's eyes bulged as she watched him dance, his wondering hands going to places appropriate for the song.

"—when you're around I'm always laughing. I want to make you mine. I close my eyes, and see you above me. Think I would die, if you were to ignore me."

Rose strode forward and the Doctor froze when he saw her. He dropped the mallet with a thud. She gave him a knowing smirk and sat down at the pilots seat brushing an empty pie tin to the floor. She propped her feet on the console and opened her magazine. She held his eyes as she sang along. "I get down on my knees, I'd do anything for you." She winked. The Doctor gulped.

A centerfold piece of cardboard flew out of the magazine and Rose lunged to get it. The Doctor was too quick, however, and snatched it up.

The music continued in the background. _I love myself, I want you to love me. When I'm feeling down, I want you above me._

"'I would like to have sex with you because:'" He read and raised an eyebrow. "Ms. Tyler, I thought you said you didn't have a thug boyfriend waiting for you."

Rose's face was hot and she shifted nervously. "I don't."

_I search myself, I want you to find me. I forget myself, I want you to remind me._

"Well. Let's have a look at this, shall we?" He sat down casually next to her and drew out his glasses. He held up the card as though he were a teacher grading an assignment for maths. "'I noticed your feet are large.'" He crossed an ankle over his knee and, to Rose's horror, unlaced the trainer and pulled it off to reveal bare feet.

_I want you. I don't want anybody else._

"About 28 centimeters. Is that large? It's relative to height of course. If we're considering height, well, mine are proportionate aren't they? I've never measured my height in this body but I must be over six feet." He wiggled his toes.

_And when I think about you, I touch myself._

"But I don't understand how it relates to sex." He shrugged and looked at Rose whose knees were drawn up. She was bent to hide her mouth behind her knees, but her burning forehead betrayed her and her eyes were wide and horrified as she watched him.

"I look daft with one shoe, don't I? Might as well take the other one off." He bent to unlace the other and toed it off easily. "Molto bene. On to the next. 'The world could end tomorrow.'" He glanced at her again then folded his arms and frowned as though in deep thought. "Hardly likely given you've seen the future and you know exactly when your world will end. _However._ Given that we travel in time, I suppose we could end up at the end of the world again some how, so I'm going to give you that one."

_I don't want anybody else. When I think about you I touch myself. _

The Doctor cleared his throat to read the next one. "You're a bad boy." He raised an eyebrow at Rose. "I suppose I am aren't I? Don't exactly follow the rules and I'm always getting in trouble. You should see the list of people I have now that I must avoid for the rest of my life. People who want me dead or banish me," He gave a one fingered salute in Rose's direction. "Then there was that guy in New York City in 1989. Made for such an awkward situation he decided to write a T.V. programme about it. Oh, what was it called?" He took off his glasses and scratched his nose.

_I touch myself. I honestly do. _

"Started with an 'S'. It was his last name… nevermind, not important. Moving on." He pulled the glasses back on. "'I'm in love with you.'"

Rose watched as he stared at the card. The seconds felt like hours as they dragged by. Finally, he cleared his throat. "Quite right, too." He folded and pocketed his glasses. He handed the card back to Rose and she took it hastily. "They seem like sound enough reasons, you really thought them through didn't you?"

Rose tried to speak but found that her voice wouldn't work. A strange lump in her throat obstructed any speech and she drew a deep breath in an attempt to clear it. She found she couldn't meet his eyes. Before she had time to worry, though, his hand was wound in her hair and the palm of his hand cradled the back of her head. She slid her knees down. The slight pressure he gave to the back of her head, encouraged her to lean into him, meeting his lips in a gentle kiss.

As the kiss deepened, she gained the courage to let her own hands wander greedily over his body.

The Doctor broke the kiss with a light gasp, but stayed close, his mouth inches away. His cool hand slipped under the hem of her shirt to stroke her back, and slowly found its way to the latch of her bra. Rose noticed that she was trembling. She scolded herself mentally. She had done this before, it wasn't anything new and she was always confident. The Doctor made her feel like it was her first time. She felt a tug at her bra strap and realized, with delight, that he was having a hard time with it.

He pulled back in frustration and looked her in the eyes. "Rose, do I have your permission to take you up on this offer?" He took the card from her hand and waved it. "They seem like good enough reasons and I'll add to the list that I would quite like to try number two. "

"Y-yes, okay." She managed to squeak, a grin spreading across her face.

He tossed the card away and jumped off the seat. Confused, Rose watched him as he reached his brown coat and slung it over an arm. Digging into a pocket, he drew out the sonic screwdriver.

He tapped it against his palm with a self satisfied smirk then reached under her shirt. Rose felt a tingling sensation on her back as the sonic screwdriver hummed. She raised her eyebrows as she felt the latch spring apart. "Bring the magazine with you." He said as he handed it to her. She yelped in surprise as she was lifted off the seat.

"You're bringing the screwdriver and the coat with you?" She asked breathlessly as the Doctor carried her down the hall.

"Shame to let all that research go to waste, don't you think? I've been doing my own as a matter of fact."

"We can't do all ninety-nine."

"Why not? Just watch me."

"You'll need to make more pie then."

The Doctor blanched.

The End

Ok, so there it is, hope you liked it, and please review to let me know what you think!

Kudos to anyone who knows what TV show the Doctor mentions!


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